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Literature Text
Rain tears foggy air;
whipping faces,
soaking you down.
I hide in dryness,
leaving you to your own
devices, hoping
your sins don't wash
away.
Because, like a mask
that rips flesh
when removed,
the ill you do
is all you are,
and I know
that if your wrongs
flood drains
with the downpour,
you'll
fall
too.
whipping faces,
soaking you down.
I hide in dryness,
leaving you to your own
devices, hoping
your sins don't wash
away.
Because, like a mask
that rips flesh
when removed,
the ill you do
is all you are,
and I know
that if your wrongs
flood drains
with the downpour,
you'll
fall
too.
Literature
if i could invent words
i would like to create a word
for what one feels
when they realize:
if we were birds, the only cage
we would be in
are the ones
we create ourselves. how many times
have our wings
been clipped
by our own hands
alone. christ, i'm sorry.
dear past self:
i apologize
for trying to define you;
for definition
is the metaphorical cage
to change. the only limit
the sky has
is how far
we can see.
Literature
History Burning
the trick is
to make all believe they inheret a
world all their own
remember to erase the words of the
deceased until
death never existed
and put corpses unburied
into neat containers
under every floor
to lock them up tight is
critical;
panic is the plague in this age
and is it any wonder they forget
with puppet parents
who burn books at christmas?
Literature
the end of an era
i will not be
staying behind in the city: asleep
to be blind, to not see the flames
licking the buildings in my mind.
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Not sure about the last three lines of the second stanza.
As always, comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated.
As always, comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated.
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Comments8
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The poem in the deviation is an edit based on ~AyeAye12's advice in this critique: [link]
This is the original:
Seeing rain rip through
foggy air, whipping faces,
Soaking you through,
I hide within dryness,
Leaving you to your own
Sick devices, hoping
your sins don’t wash
away.
Because, like the mask
That rips the skin
when removed,
The ill you do
Is all you are,
And I know
That if your wrongs
Go down sewer drains
With the battering rain,
You’ll
fall
too.
This is the original:
Seeing rain rip through
foggy air, whipping faces,
Soaking you through,
I hide within dryness,
Leaving you to your own
Sick devices, hoping
your sins don’t wash
away.
Because, like the mask
That rips the skin
when removed,
The ill you do
Is all you are,
And I know
That if your wrongs
Go down sewer drains
With the battering rain,
You’ll
fall
too.